


by the stars we are bound

by ItsAlwaysBloodMagic



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holding Hands, M/M, Requited Love, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 09:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13971795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAlwaysBloodMagic/pseuds/ItsAlwaysBloodMagic
Summary: The tradition consisted of a simple activity: stargazing.  Their outings had taken on a certain amount of tension as of late, but Ignis was attached, resolute in his commitment to ride it out.  Someday that tension would fade.  Noct would be married and Ignis would remain by his side, loyal in servitude and in friendship, feelings long-forgotten, devoted to his duty.





	by the stars we are bound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [@risatski on Tumblr](http://risataki.tumblr.com/), as part of the Ignoct White Day Gift Exchange 2018. I hope you like it!

Noctis was under the impression he was being clever.

It was endearing, really. Endearing, and incredibly distracting.

If Ignis needed further proof that he was entertaining improper thoughts, well, see Exhibit A: _Prince’s Chamberlain Driven to Distraction by Embarrassingly Transparent Antics._ Not because he harbored some level of… lust for his charge, but rather because of other, more challenging feelings.

 _Matters of the heart are always complicated_ , his uncle used to tell him.

To be in love with the unattainable is a terrible thing. Especially when one is raised alongside it.

The object of his affections was currently sitting across from him, leaning on the kitchen’s tiled counter and propping his chin on his hands, just as he had a million times before. "Ignis," he said, "what if we stayed in tonight?"

"It’s Friday, Noct. We have a standing – set of plans." Ignis loathed to call it a date. The word was loaded in a way it hadn’t been a year ago. Regardless of title, the tradition consisted of a simple activity: stargazing. Every Friday, from the moment Ignis was old enough to be behind the wheel, he and Noctis left the city behind in favor of the wide-open skies of Leide. It was a forty-five-minute drive to their regular haunt, a tall, flat rock far enough away from the city that the darkness of night could truly be experienced. The outings had taken on a certain amount of tension as of late, but Ignis was attached, resolute in his commitment to ride it out. Someday that tension would fade. Noct would be married and Ignis would remain by his side, loyal in servitude and in friendship, feelings long-forgotten, devoted to his duty.

Noctis yawned and stretched his arms above his head. "I’m tired," he said, as though that would explain his sudden desire to spend open-ended time alone with Ignis. It made Ignis smile, the only hint of his amusement contained in the corners of his mouth, upturned for the briefest of moments. 

"What an uncommon state of affairs."

"I don’t wanna get caught," Noct added. One excuse piled atop another. 

It was an elaborate game of cat-and-mouse, one Ignis was predisposed to win. He shot an eyebrow up in mock-incredulity. "We always get caught." It was close enough to true - they were "caught" exactly eighty-six percent of the time, always with a slap on the wrist and an escort back to Noctis’ apartment. 

The expression on Noctis’ face turned glum. "I don’t understand why they won’t give us a pass to leave the city. I’m royalty, where’s the respect?" He let out a huff, breath catching on the fringe of bangs hanging down into his eyes and sending them – alongside Ignis’ heart - aflutter. 

Ignis schooled his face into a neutral expression before speaking. "I believe the order comes directly from your father. The intent is to keep you safe."

"My dad doesn’t get it."

There was truth buried in those words. Noctis wasn’t pouting, he was hurt. A sore subject, his father. Ever distant, yet present in the form of rules and court etiquette and expected life choices.

"Did you have another activity in mind?" Ignis sighed, an admission of defeat. He could never say no to Noct, not when he was like this. 

In all fairness, a night in was a small price to pay for Noctis’ happiness, and in the end Ignis was rewarded. An immediate change manifested in his charge’s face, in his shoulders, in the very way he held himself. He went from brooding prince to confident young man in a heartbeat, all bounce and genuine smiles. Ignis counted it as a win. "I have something to show you," Noctis said, with more than a hint of nerves. He led Ignis down the hall to the bedroom. A gentle tug and they were inside. The door shut as all doors do, sound slightly muffled, but to Ignis it held the weight of his conscience.

Damn Noct and his well-laid traps. To think Ignis had let himself believe he had the upper hand. Well. One click of a latch was all it took to humble him of that notion. He was no longer fit to serve, and here was the proof. The bedroom, the closed door, Noct’s hand in his… Ignis knew himself, and this - it was too many temptations, too many items on the list of _Things Ignis Wants but Can Never Have_ , all in one place. Only the Astrals knew where his thoughts would run off to next, or Ifrit forbid, his hands… 

He froze, debating his options. "Noct, I hardly think -- "

"Specs. How many times have you been in my room?"

"When we were younger."

"And when you pick up my stuff."

"That’s different, I --" 

Noctis left his side and moved toward the windows. Nearby buildings reflected purple and blue mixed with the deepening grey that signified the first hours of twilight. Heavy light-blocking curtains were lowered, and just like that, the world went dark. Instinct led Ignis to blink and rub at his eyes. It did no good. Darkness remained, whispering in the back of his mind, familiar, like a distant memory. 

"Hold on," Noctis mumbled from somewhere to his left, "we’ll have light in a sec." The sound of a foot against wood. "Shit! Uh, sorry. For the swear." 

Ignis snorted, low enough to be overlooked. "Language, Highness." The words anchored him. He was advisor to the Prince. The role was imbued with a natural structure. It had rules. They were to be recited in specific circumstances, namely the one Ignis currently found himself in. 

The sound of a switch being flipped, and soft light was cast over the room. It originated from a small plastic globe placed on the floor; pinpricks, occasionally interrupted by the shadows of furniture. Noctis was grinning, face lit up by the glow of simulated stars. It was the most beautiful sight Ignis had ever laid eyes on.

In short, he was in a world of trouble.

A hand was extended once again. He took it, breath catching in his throat. "C’mon," Noctis said, "lie down with me." Ignis’ chest threatened to crack with the warmth of the stars and again with the weight of Noct’s words. This they certainly hadn’t done since they were children. There were simply too many unknowns: what he might do, what Noctis might do, and what this thing between them might become. 

He chided himself as he took Noctis’ hand, again as he was led to the bed, and a third time as they lay there together. _You are advisor to the Prince. There are rules to adhere to. This is improper._ Over and over again, like a litany. 

Thank the Astrals Noctis slept in a bed fit for his station - king size, large enough for three. It was easy enough put an intentional amount of distance between them. He did just that, releasing their hands in the process. Noctis scooted closer, attempting, no doubt, to chip away at Ignis’ will with each inch of space that was breached. 

He turned toward his liege. "Noctis. That is far enough. We are walking a line -- "

"Are we?" A smirk, damn it all. Ignis was caught.

He did the only thing he knew to do; returned his gaze to the ceiling, steadfast in his resolution to not give in to whatever this was. The cosmogony could be recalled quickly; old traditions dredged up along with it. He used this to his advantage, familiarity serving to shift them away from intimacy until _want_ was barely a whisper. His hand – the one farthest from Noct, because a treacherous part of himself would simply not listen – moved to trace constellations as he recited the tales. Shiva and Ifrit in love – no, best to forego that one. Titan, then, catching the meteor, the spread of the Scourge represented in those nine stars spiraling out. Drat. Another tale to be avoided. Ignis stared up at the ceiling, searched his mind, came up with nothing. "Do you remember your cosmogony, Noct?" he asked, adopting the voice of a tutor. 

The sound of hair against fabric, something brushing the side of his arm. Ignis realized too late that the hand closest to Noct, the traitorous one, had been inching closer and closer toward the forbidden. Noctis, in turn, was reaching for him. It felt inevitable when their pinkies hooked together, the result of a gravitational pull Ignis could no longer deny. He turned his head to find two cloudy blue eyes, scant visible in the near – darkness. It stilled the air in his lungs. There, frozen in time, the future turned unpredictable, unknowable. 

"Ignis," Noct said. Ignis’ hand crept closer in response, pinky tiptoeing its way along the underside of a palm. It was sweaty. He hardly noticed, engrossed as he was in the significance of it all. This was Noct, and him, and they were well on their way to holding hands. The dam had finally broken. Ignis could hear the story as it would be told to their grandchildren. 

_It happened like this: A crack appeared under a ceiling of stars. Fingers brushed together, a wall crumbled, and there was no turning back._

A thumb grazed his life line before coming to rest on his wrist. It spoke of fates tangled hopelessly, of a union formed on first meeting. Noctis turned sideways, crooked his elbow, and brought Ignis’ hand to his lips. "The things you do to me," Noctis murmured, voice dipping into an octave that elicited an altogether different response, low in Ignis’ gut. Too soon, that. He steered away from the feeling, settling somewhere softer, somewhere warm.

"That makes two of us," he breathed. 

"I love you," he admitted.

"Always," he promised.

Finally, finally, finally.

**Author's Note:**

> [Come find me on Tumblr.](https://itsalwaysbloodmagic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
